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In Honor of the Dearly Departed

July 8, 2008

Sen. Jesse Helmsfuneral is today.

To honor this great man’s passing, I offer you a touching serenade to his steadfast and tireless devotion to bigotry and oppression.

(grainy Jesse Helms sample)
“Unless and until the American people demand the restoration of both moral and spiritual priorities, I simply do not believe that we’re going to solve any other problems as well.”

Big fat fuck from North Carolina state,
he’s a worthless piece of shit, he’s a paragon of hate,
he’s a redneck, fuck-face, brain-dead waste of space,
two-bit, two-timing, motherfucking pool of slime.
Against gay rights, and funding for the arts,
tried to cancel PBS and tear Big Bird apart.
Cut AIDS funding, corporate welfare for the rich,
he’s a shameless money grubber, he’s a two dollar bitch.

Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?

Fundamentalist, fuckwad, dickless prick,
he’s ugly as a morlock, dumb as a brick.
He’s a sack of shit, hypocrite, single-minded, fat bigot,
punk bitch, ignorant, ass-munch sycophant.
Life long friend of the deadly cancer sticks,
thinks AIDS is the fault of the people it afflicts.
Racist fuck who supports segregation,
foe of the people friend of the corporation.

Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?

Uh!
Damn.
Get up, get up!

Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Hurry up and die!

Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?
Why won’t Jesse Helms just hurry up and die?

Yo Jesse, you dumb-ass, racist, cracker motherfucker!
Why the fuck won’t you just hurry up and die?
And take that punk-bitch Strom Thurmond with you!

“Why Won’t Jesse Helms Just Hurry Up and Die?” by MC Hawking

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I Just Finished Playing Max Payne

March 6, 2008

The crumbs were scattered down the counter like Hansel and Gretel’s roadtrip to Hell. The bread loaf, the apple, nothing else had been hit. Just the jar. Somebody knew what they wanted ahead of time. An inside job always stinks, and I was fresh out of Lysol.

“I told them I was saving them for the potluck. Why would they do this?”

A good question. A better one would be, who are they?

“Honey, cut it out.”

The dame was feisty, I’ll give her that. She was all sleek curves and dangerous eyes that flashed like lightening or gunfire, take your pick. I like gunfire.

“Damnit John, just go talk to your boys!”

The perps were holed up in their rathole, a cramped attic filled with beds and dressers and little plastic landmines that hurt really bad if you stepped on them with bare feet. Bad like a moon rising in that song. The usual suspects were there. I knew Billy was a stoolie, but only when Tommy and Jimmy weren’t there to keep him in line. Worse luck, they were. They looked up, all puzzled innocence.

“Uh…dad? Why are you talking like-”

Clever, real clever of them. They were trying to take the lead in the conversation, I’d have to watch my back.

All right, you thugs, I said. Who took the cookies from the cookie jar?

“Thugs?”

“Dad, that’s a little harsh.”

I needed answers, not backtalk. This was going nowhere fast. Or everywhere slow, I couldn’t tell. Riddles upon riddles until my head hurt.

“Yeah, you seem like you might have hit it pretty hard.”

I still needed answers, bad. Ly. I had some leverage against them, I decided to use it. If I didn’t find out whodunit, I’d ground them like grounded pepper. Billy looked ready to crack. I asked them again about who took the cookies from the cookie jar.

“Tommy took the cookies from the cookie jar!”

“Me? Couldn’t be, I was at practice.”

Then who?

“Jimmy. Jimmy must have taken the cookies from the cookie jar.”

“You’re on crack, Billy. I don’t even like cookies, dumbass.”

But if the truth wasn’t behind door number one, and it wasn’t behind door number two, then what was behind door number three? The truth? I had my doubts.

“Okay, okay. I did it. I took the cookies from the cookie jar.”

This was a surprise. Sleet and ice water filled my veins. Something was wrong. A big something. The kind of something that gets called the Blankity-blank Incident for years to come. I had no evidence. Why would Billy cop to it? What’s his angle?

“Honey!”

The dame was calling from down below, like a voice out of Hell.

“Never mind, I found crumbs all over the dog’s bed. And I heard that voice of Hell thing, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

One mystery solved, but I’d stumbled across something even bigger. Why would Billy take the fall for Rex?

“I…I just didn’t want to be grounded.”

The last shoe, dropped at last. It was a big line of shoes, like at Footlocker.

“Wait, you didn’t want to be grounded for something the dog did, so you tried to get us grounded instead? Don’t go to sleep tonight, twerp. I’m warning you.”

Oh. Well then. Tom, Jim, be nice to your brother. Billy, watch your back.

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Exit Counseling

February 28, 2008

I did my student loan exit counseling today.

Or, at least I tried to. I spent 40 minutes reading through their painful are-you-sure-you-understand-this-you-stupid-fuck tutorial and then I took their stupid little multiple choice quiz which included, no lie, a question that I got wrong because the answer was not “Graduated Repayment Plan” but something like “Federal Government Direct Loan Repayment Plan- Graduated” as if those are two different answers. Then I click on the submit quiz results and I get booted over to a page that says:

The Direct Loan Counseling services are temporarily unavailable right now. Please try again later.

Unavailable? I got 40 fuckin’ minutes of wasted time that say different, ass-munch! The services seemed pretty fucking available when I was wading through page after page of government sometimes-we-forget-to-include-the-verb instruction pages! Fuck off and die, shitheads!

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Seen Around the Internet.

February 27, 2008

[21:32] GuttrMky: You know what would be awesome for Back to the Future 4?
[21:32] tgreatyoda: Not doing it?
[21:33] GuttrMky: They go into the future again, but find it to be an irradiated wasteland. They return to 1986 to spend their last days in their happiest time as the radiation posioning slowly eats away at their bone marrow.
[21:33] tgreatyoda: Lovely.
[21:33] GuttrMky: I know.
[21:34] GuttrMky: It’ll be the feel good movie of the year.
[21:34] tgreatyoda: Then you can do the reimagined Carebears.
[21:34] GuttrMky: Carebears: Raibes in Gumdrop Land.

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Spoiler Alert!

February 27, 2008

Diebold Accidentally Leaks Results Of 2008 Election Early

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Paper #3 for my Theory of Authorship class

February 26, 2008

In Foucault’s “What is an Author?”, he summarizes his theory of what he calls the authorship function as having four distinct characteristics. The very first of these is that “the author function is linked to the juridical and institutional system that encompasses, determines, and articulates the universe of discourses.” He more fully explains this passage as the “penal appropriation,” and argues that authorial ownership is first appropriated on behalf of the writer by the relevant local judicial authorities- whether the writer wants it or not. The story that is related in Malcolm Gladwell’s “Something Borrowed” is a good case study for the practical implications of Foucault’s penal appropriation.

Read the rest of this entry »

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Added to My To-Do List

February 24, 2008

My roommate- the stupid one- just came back from There Will Be Blood, bitching and moaning about how it was horrible and awful and completely devoid of plot or story. She said she and her boyfriend where sitting through the whole movie, looking at each other in disbelief, wondering how on Earth they were duped into paying money to watch such shit.

So now I have to rush right out and see it.